


bones mend, regret scars

by NoxWrites



Series: Eivor/Randvi [3]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Comfort, F/F, Feelings, Pain, story spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:14:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27676580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoxWrites/pseuds/NoxWrites
Summary: She did what she had to do. Sigurd was not around, the duties of jarl fell on her shoulders. She could do nothing to change that. Dag thought differently and it was his downfall.orpost Dag-fight fic
Relationships: Eivor/Randvi (Assassin's Creed)
Series: Eivor/Randvi [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023928
Comments: 5
Kudos: 181





	bones mend, regret scars

**Author's Note:**

> im taking prompts over on tumblr! Um, I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> WARNING
> 
> this fic is VERY spoiler heavy and if you haven’t gotten to a quest called “A Brewing Storm” and you don’t want spoilers DON’T read. 
> 
> if you don’t care and/or you’ve passed “A Brewing Storm” then feel free to jump in!

Her knees sank into the mud, dirtying her armor and skin. Dag’s fresh grave is covered in front of her and she has finished the ring of stones around it. Her body shook in the freezing rain drowning all of Ravensthorpe as the world weeps for Dag. Her chest caves in on itself with rapid breaths, her vision darkened at the edges as she lost the ability to control her breath. 

A hand touches her soggy armored shoulder, pulling her from her session of self destruction. She looks up to see Randvi huddling under a cloak as she holds Eivor’s shoulder. Randvi’s clothes are damp with rain, her face damp with streaks of tears. Eivor shudders to think how Randvi felt during the fight. She can hear the sounds of Randvi’s pleas with herself and Dag to stop. Her pleas for Eivor to stop. Her cries at each cut of the axe, at each slam of the shields. Randvi puts an arm around Eivor as she stands, she pulls one of Eivor’s arms around her neck. 

Eivor watches from out of her body as her body walks step in step with Randvi, trudging to the long house. A lifeless husk leaning on Randvi, a body of a broken warrior. Her jaw slack and her eyes glaze over, she lets Randvi lead her to the room behind the alliance table and settles on the bed.

Randvi takes her time as she disrobes Eivor, hands shaking as bruised skin is revealed. She pulls off the drenched fur cloak, tossing it on the ground to be dealt with later. The robes Eivor wears are held together by buckles and belts which take Randvi what feels like hours to pull off. Randvi’s breath hitches as she sees Eivor’s bare chest, the beautiful canvas of ink and scarred skin now coated in a thick layer of bright red ichor. Eivor’s blood soaked bracers slip off with ease, joining the other discarded clothes at once. 

“Take off your boots my love.” Randvi whispers as she stands to find clean rags. 

Randvi is frantic as she steps around the room. She leaves only to come back with a bowl of water. She watches as Eivor’s numb fingers forego the laces of her boots in favor of tugging them as hard as possible. Her feet slide free with ease out of the soaking wet boots. She throws them with her robes and cloak. 

Randvi stands in front of her with cloth and a bowl of water in her hands. Eivor lets Randvi lift her arms without resistance. Gentle touches draw down Eivor’s arms, the dry cloth pulls slick blood off the skin as Randvi wipes away the mess of Eivor’s body. She dips the rags into the water and drains it before starting again. Eivor trembles as the cloth runs over open wounds but she makes no noise. Randvi glances from injuries to Eivor’s eyes, scanning the warrior’s visage as Eivor gazes into the distance. The mess of Eivor’s mind was not something Randvi could simply wipe away clean. 

“Dag was with me when I took down my first bear.” Eivor whispers. 

Randvi’s heart cracks as Eivor speaks, her voice shaking and broken. She let’s Eivor speak as she continues to clean her body of blood. Her spare hand rubs at Eivor’s muscles to soothe her. 

“We raided with each other for years.” Eivor’s body shakes. “Everything I’ve done has been to save Sigurd since the moment he was taken.”

Randvi sets the cloth into the bowl of water before kneeling in front of Eivor, taking Eivor’s hands in her own. “He only saw what he wanted to see. He only saw you raiding monasteries, making decisions, and helping settlers. This isn’t your fault. You gave him an honorable death, not everyone would do the same. You will meet again in Valhalla and embrace as friends once more.”

Eivor looks at Randvi in the eyes, her blue eyes storming with sorrow and pain. “If I make it to Valhalla.” 

Randvi’s breath catches in her throat, “What?”

“What have I done to deserve Valhalla? I let my brother be taken from me without fighting. I killed one of the people I considered friends because he questioned me. I killed Ivarr for killing Ceolbert but I denied him Valhalla. I’ve done nothing worthy.” Eivor’s shaking voice, as delicate as glass, shatters with each word. 

“You have brought peace to Mercia. You have made a land that will be safe for this clan for generations. You will find Sigurd and all will be right again.” Randvi tries to reassure her. 

Eivor shakes her head in disagreement. Randvi stands with a sigh as she collects a hook and thread from a box on the table in her bedroom. She sits behind Eivor, placing a hand next to the first large gash on Eivor’s back as warning. 

“Would you like some ale?” Randvi asks before she begins to stitch her up. 

“No, I need to feel this. I deserve to feel this.” Eivor whispers over her shoulder. 

Ravensthorpe’s residents slept unwell that night. A fight between their stand-in chieftan and a warrior of their clan left them all unsure. Their hearts wept and their minds fell into a state of grief or pity. None passed the longhouse. None heard the cries as Randvi stitched Eivor together both mind and body. As Eivor bit her lip to the point of tearing skin as her gashes were stitched together. As Eivor weeped for Dag, for herself, and her brother. 

**Author's Note:**

> prompts can be sent to tumblr if you want!
> 
> tumblr: canaries  
> twitter: jukeboxnox  
> cruiouscat: jukeboxnox


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